Chapter Five - Thank God for Victory (Over Natives)

CHAPTER FIVE

Thank God for Victory (Over Natives)

FORGET THE FEAST.

Forget the corn.

Forget the long table and the pilgrims holding hands in soft candlelight.

That’s not what “Thanksgiving” meant to the people who invented the word.
Not at first.

To the Puritans, a “day of thanksgiving” wasn’t about turkey and togetherness.
It was a religious ritual.

A holy command.

A spiritual reaction to victory.

Especially when that victory was soaked in Native blood.

Here’s how it worked:

If something good happened — a bountiful harvest, a safe voyage, or most often, a military win — the Puritan leaders would declare a day of public thanksgiving.

Not in November. Not with pumpkin pie. Not even on a regular schedule.

Just… whenever God seemed to show up with favor.

You’d stop what you were doing. Gather at church. Pray. Fast. Sometimes feast afterward. And most importantly, you’d give thanks — not just for surviving — but for dominating.

They’d thank God for delivering their enemies.
For “cleansing” the land.
For sparing the righteous and smiting the wicked.

This wasn’t humble gratitude. This was victory lap theology.

The Pequot Massacre? Day of Thanksgiving.

The decimation of a rival tribe? Day of Thanksgiving.

Surviving a brutal winter while your Native neighbors died of plague? Day of Thanksgiving.

It became a formula:

Land taken? Give thanks.
Natives slaughtered? Give thanks.
Settlers spared? Give thanks.
Expansion successful? You get the idea.

The more brutal the win, the more urgent the gratitude.
Because in their minds, God was on their side — and the violence was sacred.

This is where Thanksgiving’s DNA gets scrambled.

Because it wasn’t invented as a harvest festival.
It was born from blood and framed as destiny fulfilled.

The word itself got weaponized — turned into a moral shield to justify expansion, domination, and annihilation.

And every time they declared another “day of thanks,” it rewrote the story a little more.
Less about the people who were already here.
More about the people who believed God had sent them.

So no — Thanksgiving didn’t come from peace.

It came from conquest — dressed in scripture, baptized in victory.

And for a long time, that’s all it was.
Until one woman decided it should be something else.